


Truly, Madly, Scully

by CaroBertaud



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drunkenness, Episode: s03e13 Syzygy, F/M, Humor, Post-Episode: s03e13 Syzygy, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 03:02:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7387969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaroBertaud/pseuds/CaroBertaud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully hastily leave Comity and its once-every-84-years craziness borne from the syzygy of Mars, Uranus, and Neptune.<br/>Driven by the tempestuous Scully in the middle of the night, she and Mulder end up in a motel where Mulder will soon discover another form of syzygy: his Truly Madly Scully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mad sobriety

**Author's Note:**

> Michelle, THANK YOU!

      “Will you be mad forever?”

      “Who says I’m mad?”

      “Scully, come on.”

 

Scully looked at Mulder with patronizing eyes and kept her mouth tightly closed. _Scully, come on,_ what? Didn’t she have every right to be mad at him!? For the sake of their friendship, she pursed her lips. She shut up. She just stared at him with a defiant gaze, her right foot low on the gas pedal (aside from his recent assumption) and her hands gripped so tightly at the steering wheel that she might rip it off if he kept holding her gaze.

 

      “Keep your eyes on the …” Mulder pleaded gently, “... Scully, look at the road. Okay, I was wrong: you’re not mad. Just don’t get us both killed.”

 

In slow motion, she turned her face back to the road. Not only was it night but the recent rain had also wetted the asphalt, making conditions already dangerous. Throw in bad-ass Scully, and you had a perfect recipe for a car crash. It was a seven-hour drive from Comity, New Hampshire to DC, and Mulder feared it was going to be a hell of a long roller-coaster ride…

Mulder unfolded the road map and then checked his watch. Why had Scully had been in such a hurry to head back to DC? He had no idea. Clueless. Zip. Nada. It was around 1AM when they left Comity; therefore there was not one chance in hell they’d make it straight to Washington. They would have to stop somewhere at some point. And there was absolutely no point either in arriving at 8. To do what? Go straight to the office? Sleep all day? They really should have stayed an extra night in New Hampshire.

 

      “New York is about halfway. Do you want to stop over there or before that?” He had the map in hand and was trying to be as good a co-pilot as she usually was. “It’s still another three hours to get there.”

      “I don’t care, Mulder,” she replied coldly.

      “I think we should stop before New York.”

      “Then why do you ask?”

      “Because I’ve always appreciated your opinion.”

      “Since when?”

      “Scully, seriously, what is it? You —”

      “Actually, I think we should stop right here.” They had just passed a motel and Scully suddenly made a sharp U-turn before slowing the car down in the parking lot.

      “But we’ve only been on the road for a half hour.”

      “So?” She put the car in park and stared at him with defiance again.

      “Okay, whatever you feel is best,” Mulder gave in.

 

They entered the motel, both inwardly hoping for two vacant rooms. Scully because she was tired, didn’t want to hit the road tonight and _definitely_ could use a break from Mulder. And Mulder … well, Mulder knew that otherwise he’d have to sit back in the car for God knows how long where Scully would essentially thunder the blame out on him and he’d incur her wrath in denseness and in hell. Luckily enough, the manager handed them two keys.

 

      “Must be your lucky day,” the manager said, “the very last two.”

      “Yeah, lucky, lucky day,” Scully said sarcastically, tearing one key out of his hand.

 

Mulder gave the manager an apologetic smile and took the key the manager handed him. Before he could offer to carry Scully’s suitcase, she’d stormed to her room.

 

Mulder sighed, sat on his bed, turned on the TV (observing with relief that the old black and white movie wasn’t on any longer), turned it off, and paced like a lion in a cage, trying to shed some light on Scully’s erratic behavior. After five minutes and the lightbulb still hadn’t gone one, he went out and knocked on Scully’s door.

 

      “Is it because of what I said about your small feet not reaching the pedals?” He asked when Scully opened the door.

 

Mulder didn’t wait for Scully to invite him in, he just entered. Her suitcase was opened on her bed. Phew, thank God she hadn’t changed yet; Mulder had not anticipated the fact that she might be ready for bed and would not have been in the mood for a little bedtime chit-chat with her favorite partner.

 

      “What is, Mulder?” A bit annoyed, she pushed the door closed and stayed nearby the entrance.

      “That you’re upset with me.” Mulder stood behind her bed, keeping a good, safe distance from her.

      “I’m not upset.”

      “Yeah you are. Look, I’m sorry if I offended you; I didn’t mean to be mean, … and you did call me a big macho man.”

      “Are you done?”

 

Mulder opened his mouth to protest, but Scully had been faster, opening the door and now silently asking him out. Her eyes could say so many things, it was crazy. And right now, he could read _Get the hell off my f*cking room_. Now was not the time to quarrel with Scully. He got out. And as soon as he did, the door slammed behind him.

 

Scully lit a cigarette and paced in her room for a while, mad and thoughtful. _Is it because_ _of what I said about your small feet not reaching the pedals?_ She mumbled and grimaced. Graduated top of his class from Oxford University and he still didn’t have the slightest understanding of a woman’s feelings. With one wave of her hand, she grabbed her key on the nightstand, opened and slammed the door, stomped through the outside hallway to the next door and knocked on Mulder’s.

 

      “The whole case, you’ve been insinuating things about me and humiliating me like … _If you detect a hint of skepticism or incredulity in Agent Scully’s voice_ ,” she grimaced, “or _If you detect a hint of impatience in Agent Scully’s voice_ ,” she grimaced again, “or …”, she shook her head vividly, “or God knows what else! But like you said, _maybe_ I’m _just imagining that_.”

      “ _I’ve_ been humiliating you?? Scully, you’ve been acting strangely, and you’ve been rude to Detective White.”

      “ _To Detecti—?_ And what was that allusion about my liking latex spanning again?”

      “Have you been keeping notes or score or something?” He frowned. “And can you … not smoke in my room? Since when do you smoke?”

      She took the small alcohol bottle she had spotted in his opened bag and smelled its contents and then tasted it. It made her cough. “Since when do you drink on a case?”

      “I don’t.”

      “Right, and I don’t smoke either.”

      “Scully, whatever I did or said, I’m truly sorry.” He took a little and shy step closer as if he was afraid she was going to bite him, bent over from the other side of the bed, put a hand on the mattress and took his bottle from her hand. Then he stood upright and looked at her. “Can we put that behind us, please?”

      “Sure, fine, whatever.”

 

Scully stormed out of his room and Mulder followed her just a few seconds later before she had time to close her door.

 

      “See, Scully, something’s not right. Maybe you _were_ mad before because you’d been affected when Mercury, Mars and Uranus came into conjunction but it all stopped at midnight. You _shouldn’t_ be mad anymore.”

      “I’m not mad!” She looked upward, sighing in disbelief while raising her hands up and down to slap her thighs. “Quit repeating that.”

      “Then why the cigarette?”

      She walked hastily to the bathroom, took a last long good puff, threw it away in the toilet and came back. “There, happy? Can we get some sleep now? It’s …” she checked her watch, “almost 2. Or have you already forgotten all about how to sleep alone in your room?”

      “Oh … So it’s because of Detective White?”

      “What about her?”

      “Nothing! See, that’s the whole point. Nothing hap—”

      “Mulder, you’re a grown man. You can do whatever the hell you want to do with and to Detective White. You can _do_ her aaaall you want!”

      “But _nothing_ happened,” he insisted.

      “It’s none of my business.”

      “Scully—”

      “Mulder, what is this about?? I’m obviously not going to report you.”

      “I want to know what’s going on! What’s gotten into you?”

      “Nothing’s going on. Nothing’s gotten into me. Screw Detective White.”

      “But I didn’t —”

      “I know, Mulder! I know! You’ve told me a million times. Enough already!” Her voice rose to a higher pitch than she expected. She waved her hand to ask him to leave again.

      “Geez, you can be so rigid sometimes!” He said as he left her room.

 

She was rigid?? She followed him to his room: she had to clarify this.

 

      “I’m rigid??” She asked after she’d opened the door without knocking. “ _Iiiiii’m_ rigid??” She took his bottle and drank several sips, her eyes unable to keep at eye level with him now that he had his shirt unbuttoned all the way down to his belly.

      “I said _sometimes_. Don’t forget the _sometimes_ ,” he said with a soft voice.

      “And Mrs. … What’s her name? Mrs. Detective White is not rigid, I bet.” Her eyes swept down again to his bare chest, it was too hard to resist.

      Mulder gaped and smiled. “Scully … Are you … jealous?”

      “What? What!? No! Of course no, I’m not jealous. Jealous of what? Of that faux-blond? That bimb—”

      “Oh my God, Scully, you’re jealous. _You_ are _so_ jealous,” he smiled again with amazement.

      “I am _not_ ,” she said as she strutted back toward the door, pouting like a little girl and upset with herself for this stupid and awkward confession.

      “Stay here,” he grabbed her by the arm and stopped her. “We’re not finished,” he said with a soft voice.

 

He spun her to face him and cupped her other arm. Her legs flickered a little and her heart weakened, failing to argue.

 

      “Mulder, I’m not jealous,” she whined again, her voice a little quieter, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes looking straight into his. “I’m not jealous,” she repeated as an attempt to convince the both of them.

      “You know I would never want to hurt you, Scully.”

      “Yes.”

      “And _really_ , nothing happened.”

      “And _really_ , I don’t care.”

      “It’s what you say, but your body must be speaking another language.” She remained silent and he slid his hands up to her shoulders and pulled her closer, hugging her. “Com’ ere. I’m sorry.”

 

Her arms were still crossed between her chest and his stomach. She didn’t want to take them away, to respond to his hug, as recognition slowly grew inside her like shocking evidence. He was right; she _was_ jealous. What the hell was with her!? That shouldn’t happen. He was her partner, her friend.

She tilted her face to the side in the little confined space between his arms, trying to understand what was happening. She had always loved the feelings that ran through her when he was holding her tight against him. Security. Serenity. Fullness. Warmth. Peace (and love). But when she had seen Detective White straddle him on that motel bed, it had felt like treason. Like Mulder belonged to her, Scully, and to _her_ only. Where the heck did that jealousy come from? She had convinced herself that this _love_ between them (because no matter how platonic this _was_ love) was due to their incredible trust and friendship. Not a sexual kind of love. Of course he’d been stalking her dreams lately, and she had wondered once or twice what he would taste and feel like, but that only came into consideration out of curiosity really because he was one hell of a sexy, mind-blowing and clit-twitching man. Not that she actually wanted this, or that she had these kinds of feelings for him. But now, did she? She had no right, this was wrong, oh God, this was so wrong. There was a smell of burning. This was trouble.

 

      “Mulder,” she whispered in a weak complaint. “I’d better be going, it’s late.”

      “Okay,” he said softly.

 

Mulder closed the door behind his partner and realized with a slight shock that the reason Scully was mad was not because of some planets aligning, not because he had mocked her petite feature, and not because she had witnessed his totally inappropriate and unprofessional behavior with Detective White (although, again, the blame was on her, not him). No, it was instead because she had actually been completely jealous. Wow. This was huge. Scully was attracted to him?? Of all the men she could have? Him? Spooky Mulder?

Scully was the most intriguing, the most amazing, the most exquisite woman he’d ever known. Not to mention how beautiful she was. And she was attracted … to him? Wow. Was it right to want to believe? How many times had he fantasized over the weight of her breasts, topped with tiny hard nipples begging to be licked, over the firmness of her derrière in his squeezing large hands, over the sweet gourmet taste of her folds? How many times had he stopped himself from asking her out? Not daring to date a woman so out of his league. He respected her more than he respected his own mother.

He knew she hated it but he couldn’t help but want to protect her all the time. He feared for her, he feared losing again ever since the Duane Barry and the Donnie Pfaster incidents. She was the most beautiful thing that had happened to his life, and that wasn’t about to be challenged any time soon.

Could they be involved in an intimate relationship together and not ruin everything? Did she want it? Did she want _him?_ How long had she felt that way? Oh man, how could he ever fall asleep now!?

 

She was wearing her PJs, and he realized how tired she looked when he knocked on her door once more. He stayed in the doorway.

 

      “What is it again, Mulder?”

      “Can I make amends and give you a good-night kiss?” He smiled.

 

Surprised, she smiled too, a cute but weak tired smile, and sighed. She tilted her face and offered her cheek to him. He put his hands on her shoulders and bent down. As he brushed her cheek with a kiss, she closed her eyes. Purely platonic. His lips pressed on her face a little while longer than necessary and then his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

 

      “What’s wrong, Mulder?” She asked, concerned.

      “Nothing,” he said, laying his chin above her head and hugging her tighter, “I want to make sure you _know_ I would never want to hurt you, Scully. And although it was absolutely not something I initiated or even expected, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

      “I know. It’s okay, I’m fine.”

      “Okay …” He pulled back to look at her. “Can I get a good-night kiss too?”

 

She smiled and cupped his face with her hands and then kissed his cheek. How could she stay mad at this lovely face? She started pulling back when he gently captured her hands over his face and stared at her with an intense and serious gaze.

 

      “Mulder, what are you doing?” She asked between fear and expectation.

      “Put it on the planets, put it on how late it is, put it on the conversation we’ve just had, put it on that sweet perfume that’s been itching my nose all day, put it on how beautiful you are, Scully, but I really want to kiss you.”

 

She barely had the time to lift a brow (let alone process what he had just said), or to open her mouth to mention that he just did, when he slowly bent down to her and his lips hovered over hers. Their mouths connected tentatively and their eyes fluttered shut.

He took his hands off hers and tenderly pressed her head closer to him while his tongue lingered over her mouth, gently nibbling her lower lip and resisting the crave to bite her hard. She felt her pulse drumming throughout every single vein of her body and increasing its speed. His heartbeat quickened too when he felt the tip of her tongue thrusting out of her mouth to gently brush his own.

He angled his face, his nose pressing against her cheekbone, his fingers tangling in her hair, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue searching inside of her mouth and gently rolling along with hers. Behind her closed eyelids, she felt her eyes roll back and her knees weaken by the second as she relaxed into the kiss and emotion overwhelmed her thoroughly.

She took her hands off his face and slid them slowly down both sides of his ribcage. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself tighter to him, filling her lungs thoroughly with his scent. Their pressed bodies pushed avidly against each other as every muscle of their bodies tightened, with a devouring and growing desire for each other. It felt as if time stood still for them, holding its breath with them.

She caught his tongue between her teeth, barely biting it and sucked it deep into her mouth.

She tasted like mint toothpaste to him and he hoped he tasted fresh too. She decided she had just discovered the true flavor of eagerness. Their tongues rolled and lingered and sucked and rolled again and again around each other, tasting all the passion Mulder and Scully cared to share. She inwardly mocked herself for having called him a macho; this was everything but macho. She took in all the feelings. It was like a sweet treat, enjoyed gently, tenderly, sensually, offered and shared with delicacy and desire but overall filled with love. They kissed for over five minutes as if to make up for all the time they wasted by waiting. Then he stroked her hair, gently bit the tip of her tongue and broke the kiss.

As he opened his eyes to her, she was slowly opening them too and he noticed her cheeks had colored to a bright pink. He put a hand on her face and thumbed her lip, smiling at her. She smiled back and they gazed at each other for a little while, the time it took for the both of them to recover.

 

      “Good night, Mulder.”

      “Good night, Scully.”

      As he was walking to his room, she leaned in her doorway toward the hallway. “Mulder,” she called out gently, and waited for him to turn around to her. “That was a good kiss.”

      “Yes, that was.”

 

***

 

The last time Mulder checked his watch, it was past 3:30. Since he’d left Scully and put himself to bed about an hour ago, he couldn’t help but touch his lips, barely brushing them with his fingers and his tongue, reliving their kiss, while Scully pulled her pajamas top to her nose to try and recapture his masculine perfume.

She resisted the urge to go and knock on his door again and this time not come back to her own; she got up several times and reasoned herself right before her door.

Mulder laid on his right side, then shifted to his left, then eventually took an extra pillow and spooned it.

 

Their respective reveries kept them awake for some time, driving them crazy for neither of them had really seen their relationship from that angle. Were they still under the influence of some cosmic convergence? It felt so real though, so genuine. It felt so right. What did feel wrong though was that they were in separate rooms.

 

Of course some doubts remained. Should they take the next step further? How would it alter their relationship? Their work? Wasn’t there even a rule against work partners dating each other? Not that they had always cared about or respected the rules but still … If there was but one thing certain to both of them, it was that they wanted to keep working together. Scully had never seen her beliefs so challenged since she’d started working with Mulder. And Mulder’s work had never been taken so seriously now that it had Scully’s counterbalanced and scientific opinions. Maybe not taken _seriously_ but harder to object to and better documented.

That kiss though … One could never tell from a first kiss how a relationship would work out. One could only dream. But it was so soft, so tender. Lighter than a feather barely brushing the skin over one’s arm. Goosebumps and shivering. How could _anything_ not end up with a beautiful picture with such a kiss? It was both calming and exciting, invigorating like a gentle breeze lingering on one’s face by a waterfront. It was emotional. It was not two mouths gathering, it was the engagement of two hearts drive wild with desire.

 

Scully had never felt safer than in Mulder’s arms, and he had never felt so confident than with her by his side. As if they needed each other to be complete. They were each other’s homes and shelters when it was them against the rest of the world, against conspiracies and evil monsters. A lit refuge, far away from the darkness where’s he’d lost himself before he knew her. No truer words than _home was where the heart was_. They both knew exactly where their homes were.

The fear of walking toward the next step was a real fear for Scully. There was so much to lose … And yet so much to discover and to win too, Mulder thought. Become even closer and more indivisible, stronger. Express fully a love that’s been there for a while. Let alone the sex part. They had both several times wondered how one could have a relationship when one worked and travelled all the time. Having sex together would be both healthy _and_ convenient. Maybe they could just be sex buddies. For health’s sake. Set the feelings aside so they wouldn’t end up hurt and broken if things didn’t work out as planned.

 

But despite its eagerness, this kiss _had_ had underlying feelings. Of that, there was no doubt.

As sleepless times passed beholding wonders and worries, Mulder and Scully were still on the same wavelength and they eventually drifted off to sleep, trying to let sleeping dogs lie.

 

***

 

Scully woke with a start and her watch told her it was after 10. God, she had not heard her alarm clock. She hurried to the bathroom, showered in record time and got dressed. She was about to knock on Mulder’s door when she noticed it was slightly open. She feared the worst at first, but when she stepped inside and saw him peacefully asleep in his bed, her heart settled.

Did he intentionally leave the door open for her earlier that night? Had it been improperly pushed? Her mind ticked the A box; Mulder not properly locking himself in was highly inconceivable.

 

Scully slowly and silently walked toward the bed where Mulder was laying on his back, his legs and arms parted like a starfish, the sheets covering only one leg and his waist, the rest of his body bare.

Bit by bit, she sneaked closer to the bed. He must have had an agitated night, but he looked peaceful now. _What do you want, Dana? Don’t go down that dangerous path. He looks amazing, doesn’t he?_ She imagined the familiar angel and devil trope, with both of them sitting on either of her shoulders. Which way would she choose to tip? She quietly sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him, restraining herself from brushing his naked chest with her fingertips, wanting to feel her palm gently move up and down with the slow rhythm of his respiration. She was a bit lost, she wanted, she wanted not. The part that wanted won out against the better part of herself.

Guardedly, she bent down, her elbows on the mattress, and inhaled his scent over the useless sheets by his ribcage. When a lock of her hair brushed his skin, Mulder, always a light-sleeper, shifted. She tried to back up, but Mulder was already awakened.

 

      “Scully?” He asked in surprise.

      “Hi,” she started, an uncomfortable smile on her face that was red with shame, “I think … We overslept; it’s after 10.”

      “Is it?” He looked toward the window. “Oh well, it’s not like we actually have to be somewhere.”

      “Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “Well, get showered, get dressed and let’s get going anyway,” she said, unconsciously laying her hand on his chest in a pretext to push herself up but in fact unable to resist the need to touch him.

 

At her touch, he rapidly sat upright to prevent her from leaving, sandwiched her face in his hands and stared at her. She felt her chest swell and noticed his breathing had shortened and quickened too. He was scanning her eyes, asking for permission. His eyes locked onto hers, and his hand went behind her head while his other went down her back, then he slowly pulled her to his mouth, pressing his chest against hers. Her heart skipped a beat and her chest rose up and down rapidly as she immediately responded to his kiss, urging her tongue inside his mouth and moaning.

After a little while, she pulled back and intently gazed at him, then she took the hem of her dress shirt and pulled it over her head. As she sat half naked in front of him, only wearing a bra, Mulder looked at her with amazement and adoration. He bent over a little, planting a kiss in the curve of her neck, and slowly unclipped her bra on her back, locking his eyes onto hers again, reading her approval. His breathing fast, full and steady, his eyes descended to her shoulders and tracked his hands as he gently slipped down the bra straps along her arms, revealing the rounded velvet breasts he’d only dreamed about. He looked at her again, taking in the moment, gathering photographic evidence of her perfection. Scully had never seen so much devotion for her in someone’s eyes.

 

      “Wow. Scully … You’re … I don’t even know the word for a million times better than beautiful.”

      “Better than you expected, or better than you hoped?” She smiled shyly.

      His eyes swept down to her breasts. “I didn’t _hope_ for anything more than just to see them. And I wouldn’t _dare_ tell you what I expected,” he said while he slowly leaned over to kiss them and his mouth was soon helped by his almost trembling hands.

      “Yes, tell me,” she whispered as she gently stroked his shoulders and the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her.

 

He tilted his face up to her, his thumbs continuing to draw small circles around her hard nipples, and he looked at her straight in the eyes for an instant, enjoying the sight of pleasure drawn on her face and of demand pleading through her piercing blue eyes. He took his hands from her breasts and gently held her as he pushed her on her back. He pulled her legs onto the bed, her feet on the pillows at the top of the bed, and he cradled her face, pressing hot kisses from breasts to neck and from neck to ear.

 

      “I had imagined two firm handful of softness and warmth, with dark nipples, nice and centered. They’d gently bounce as I’d free them from your bra, as I’d cup them and stroke them and squeeze them and kiss them and lick them. And I’d enjoy the smoothness of your skin under my fondling touch,” he murmured in her ear all the while he cupped and stroked and squeezed and fondled her breasts. She had closed her eyes and quietly moaned at his words, her back subconsciously arching now and then, higher each time. “But the truth is it’s so much better than what I dreamed, Scully.”

      At the sound of her name, she turned her face to the side to look at him and smiled. “ _Than what you dreamed_ , huh?”

      As a response, he lifted her hair and whispered “Yes” in her neck, “I’ve dreamed about you, Scully.”

 

He kissed her all the way down to her collarbone, gently nipping and giving Scully goosebumps. When his mouth reached her breasts again, Scully felt her stomach and clitoris crying out, begging to ease the sweet torture. Mulder was settled on all fours, his knees by her side and his hands over her shoulders on the mattress. Besides his face lost in the valley of her chest, he was not touching her. Scully arched her back and sighed with desire when he pinched one of her tits and put it into his mouth, playfully and gently rolling it along his tongue. But even when arched in a tied-arch bridge, she couldn’t reach his skin. She needed so much to feel his skin against hers, so much that it hurt.

Therefore, she suddenly rolled him off onto his back. Mulder raised his hands in surprise and let her take control, admiring the view from below as she straddled him. It was even better from below. His hands cupped again the two creamy soft balls as she bent down and reached out to his mouth, pressing her stomach and chest against him.

 

Mulder’s phone started to ring.

 

      “Don’t get that,” Scully said as she swept back into his mouth, stroking his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his stomach and feeling his hardness between her legs parted over him.

      “Like that was my intention …”

 

The phone stopped ringing. Scully returned to his mouth and started to rock her hips over him, gently rubbing his length with her pelvic bone. He swore and moaned her name in her mouth. He sat upright without taking his mouth off hers and wrapped his arms around her, deepened the thrust of his tongue inside her mouth, literally devouring her, and Scully hugged her arms around his neck. She adjusted her legs and wrapped them behind his butt while Mulder caressed her back all the way down to the waistband of her pants. With an agile hand, he unbuttoned her pants and he slid both hands inside her panties, cupping and squeezing her ass with eager desire, burning up from the inside.

 

The phone rang again.

 

      “Turn it off,” Mulder breathed as Scully reached out to take it from the nightstand while he dug his head in her breasts again.

      “It’s Skinner,” she said as she looked at the locked screen.

      “Oh, Scully c’mon.”

      “Technically, today’s Tuesday, Mulder, we’re supposed to—”

 

Mulder shut her up with a kiss and both moaned in each other’s mouths. The phone shut up too in Scully’s hand. Scully began to rock against Mulder again when the phone rang for the third time. Upset, Mulder hastily took it from her hand.

 

      “Mulder!” He almost yelled in the phone, inwardly planning to throw it hard against the wall afterwards. “Yes, good morning to you too, sir.” While he listened, Scully leaned back, laying one hand over his knee, and slipped her pelvic bone over him again. “Scully’s here, she’s _riiiiight_ … _ah_ … here with me, sir.” Mulder swallowed hard and gritted his teeth watching Scully rocking up and down over his shorts. “No, we’re not in Comity anymore, we’re actually on our way back to … _base_.” Mulder put his hand on one of her breasts and Scully closed her eyes, pressing her hand harder onto his, silently telling him what she needed. Every once in a while, she leaned over and Mulder put her nipple between his lips. And when she moved away from his shaft, he lifted his face up to catch some air. “I’m sorry, sir, I couldn’t hear that last part, the signal is really ba- _ah_ -d out here and I think we’re heading toward a tunnel. Oh, fuck! No sir, sorry!” He bent his head back down to look at her; her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip. She was more beautiful than ever. The show was total, as much for the eyes as for the ears and heart. And some others organs too. “Yeah, we’ll screw. We’ll _do_ I mean, we’ll _do that_. Sir. We’ll go right away.”

 

Mulder ended the conversation, gasping from pleasure and sighting from dissatisfaction at having to end this. He threw the phone further onto the bed, laid both hands behind him and stared at Scully, a smile on his face. She was so beautiful and he wanted this, but he wanted them to take their time, to enjoy every bit of it, the full menu, and not to hastily ask for the check.

 

      “Scully,” Mulder whispered.

      “Hmm?” Her eyes were still closed.

      “Hey, Scully,” he tried again after a little while, cupping her cheek with his hand.

      She looked at him and stopped moving on him. “Skinner?”

      He nodded regretfully. “He wants us back to Comity asap.”

      “Why? What’s wrong?”

      “Margi Kleinjan and Terri Roberts vanished.”

      “What do you mean _vanished?”_

      “On the loose. Gone from their cell an hour ago. Principal Bob Spitz has already gathered his witch hunter teammates and they’re looking for them now. And if they find them first … Detective White could use our help —”

      “I bet she could …”

 

With a little twinge of sorrow, Scully moved up from Mulder and grabbed her dress shirt and bra.

 

      “Hey,” Mulder said softly, grabbing her wrist and pulling himself up on his knees as she was standing up. “Don’t get mad again, okay?” He took her other hand in his.

 

Scully felt like he was talking to a fifteen year old. Of course she wouldn’t get mad. Of course she could handle the situation, _every_ situation, and contain herself. Of course she could face that … that … that Blondie Detective. Of course she wasn’t jealous. And most definitely she could move forward from this improperly avoided hanky-panky and hide her frustration. Not that she was sex starved anyway … It was probably for the best. That boldness wasn’t them. They really weren’t supposed to do that.

Mulder gently smiled as he looked at Scully’s inward monologue and emotions running through her face.

 

      “You okay?”

      “I’m fine,” she said, her face down-turned as she buttoned her shirt from below.

      “Good,” he helped her with the higher buttons and then lifted her face with a finger under her chin. “You’re beautiful, Scully.” He paused to appreciate her slightly blushing smile. “Even if you don’t hide your feelings very well.”

      “ _You_ say,” she grinned, her eyes dropping down to the tent peg under his shorts.

      He looked down and smiled. “Yeah.”

 

He hugged her and pressed a kiss on her cheek and then he looked at her as she exited the room.


	2. Amorous drunkenness

Scully let Mulder drive, and they rode in silence, letting their thoughts wander again around the same questions. Should I stay or should I go? To be or not to be? _What did women want?_ Before they knew it, they were in Comity again, settling their luggage in the rooms they had used the night before last.

When Scully locked her room and started walking toward Mulder’s, she heard _her_ voice. She couldn’t believe that she was here already.

 

      “I’m glad you could come back over on such short notice,” Detective White was saying to Mulder as Scully let herself in. “I was surprised that you had already left. Oh, Agent Scully, hi.” Scully acknowledged her silently. “What time did you leave anyway? It was after midnight when we put these girls into a cell. Do you always leave so hastily after a case?” She turned to Mulder. “I didn’t have the time to properly thank you.”

      _“Properly thank you_ ,” Scully muttered to White’s back and Mulder coughed to cover her remark.

      “Yeah, it was nothing; like you said, we didn’t ride too far South.”

 

Scully smiled and raised an eyebrow and they looked at each other with knowing smiles.

 

***

 

Detective White eventually left after explaining that Principal Spitz was searching the woods, and Mulder offered to pay a visit to the girls’ parents. It was late afternoon and the sun would set before long.

 

      “You’ve been fairly quiet since this morning, Scully.” He tried to engage the conversation as he got the car moving away from the motel.

      “I’m just a bit tired, Mulder, that’s all. It was a short night.”

      “Yes, for me too.” He turned to look at her as she was absently staring at the road. Then he turned his attention back to his driving. “I had the most difficult time trying to het to sleep too, after I’d kissed you.”

      “It seems to me that you’ve always had difficulties falling asleep.”

      “I wasn’t like that this time, you kn—”

      “I know what you mean, Mulder.”

      He paused and took a glimpse at her again. “You don’t wanna talk about it?”

      “We’re working,” she said, not taking her eyes off the road.

      He looked at her for a moment then said “Okay” in a whisper, hating the feeling that she was uncomfortable with the past situation.

 

***

 

Terri’s mother welcomed them with a sigh of relief when they said they were FBI.

 

      “Actually, Margi’s mom is right here with me. We are so worried that Principal Spitz might find them before the local authorities. How many of the FBI are you?”

      “Just us two,” Scully said.

      “Oh. Oh, better two than none, right?”

      “Can you think of anything that might help us find your daughters?” Scully asked.

      “No. No, I’m sorry I can’t,” she looked toward Margi’s mom but she too shook her head. “I said that to Detective White this morning.”

 

Every time she heard that name, Scully shivered, the picture of the female detective on top of her partner coming back in front of her eyes. Were his hands on her back? Scully felt they were on her ass. Sick. She had only had a quick glance at the scene, but she would have rather not have had any. Mulder was a work partner and he needed to remain that. Work partner. If she had sexual deprivation, she needed to take it out on some other men. Or man. Or whatever. She just and mostly needed to get the case over with and go back home.

 

      “And what about their friends?” Mulder asked, taking Scully back to present times.

      “They’ve been so close to each other since kindergarten that they never got along with anyone else really. None that they consider friends anyway.” Terri’s mother turned to Margi’s mother for acknowledgement and she nodded.

      “Can you think of any place that they liked to go or hide? Did they ever disappear or run away from your homes?” Scully asked.

 

Both mothers thought about it for a little while and Mrs. Kleinjan shook her head. Then Mrs. Roberts reminded her of that one time they hadn’t come back after school. It was over a year ago; apparently one of the girls had had a crush on the wrong boy and had felt humiliated when she had tried to tell him. Both girls had gone to the local bar and had used their charms to get the bartender to give them drinks. When a customer called the police, the bartender had hidden the girls in the storage room and they had come back home very late.

 

      “Your daughters told you the story?” Scully asked.

      “No, it was John, the bartender. He had driven the girls back home himself and had confessed what he had let happen. We didn’t press charges because he had seemed really sorry and promised to never do it again. And he brought our little girls home safely. He’s a sweet boy.”

 

The sun was setting when Mulder and Scully returned to their car. Scully was just suggesting that they go and ask John a few questions, the only lead they had in finding the girls, when Mulder’s phone rang. Without hearing the conversation, Scully knew it was Detective White and didn’t bother listening any further. She held out her hand, palm up, and Mulder handed her the car keys while talking over the phone. Scully sat in the passenger seat and waited, staring at Mulder through the windshield with the feeling of being an obsessive voyeur. She was starting to really hate this case. It was driving her nuts. She didn’t even know if she was jealous anymore, she just felt like throwing up.

 

      “Let me guess,” she said when Mulder entered the car, “Detective White can’t do it herself and needs your help on whatever she’s doing.”

      “Yes, she wants to go over the —”

      “Whatever, Mulder. Just drop me off at Rummy’s and come and get me when you’re … done.”

      “Scully …”

      “That’s fine, Mulder. Let’s get the case over with and head back to DC.”

 

Mulder held her gaze a moment until Scully impatiently raised her eyebrows.

 

She didn’t look back at him after he dropped her off. Mulder stayed parked and observed the bar. It seemed crowded, but again this was probably the only fun place in the village. Some people were hanging outside on the sidewalk, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, probably talking about the events of their day, of their lives. Mulder didn’t have these kinds of moments with Scully and he wished he did, that she would tell him how she felt at the end of her day. Especially today. That she’d tell him how she felt about that kiss and that sort of morning after. Her strange behavior, her not knowing which way the wind was blowing, her apparent confusion … if he could be reassured she was all right with it or reassure her, he would feel good about it. If she could even tell him that she was _not_ okay with it, he would reassure her that he would get over it, that she was still safe with him and she could still put all of her trust in him, that nothing had or would change between them. Regardless of how he himself felt about that morning. It had felt so good, so right and so easy to be with her that he wanted more of her. He wanted to hold her tightly in his arms and cuddle her and not let go. But he would never push her, never make her feel uncomfortable, or never try to convince her of what might or might not be. Her well-being and their friendship was all that mattered to him.

He left the bar thoughtful and heavy-hearted.

 

***

 

They had searched the woods, the school and schoolmates’ residences, White explained. Principal Spitz seemed to have called it a day too but he would sure be on the field first thing in the morning. She had tried to reason with him and to convince him to let the police do their job but it had been to no avail.

She asked Mulder if they had learned anything from the parents and he told her about the bar incident. White doubted that would lead anywhere. She unfolded a map and laid it open on the desk. After a good half hour, they had decided where to search the next day.

 

      “So, you’re going to Rummy’s now?” She asked, folding up the city map.

      “Yeah,” he looked at his watch, “I really should get going, Scully must be waiting for me.”

      “Do you wanna … get a drink or something?”

      “Oh no, but thanks.”

 

When he retreated from the police station, he dialed Scully’s number but got her voicemail and wondered if she was already upset for him having taken too long.

A few minutes later, he was parking the car in front of Rummy’s which was as crowded as it had been about an hour ago.

 

He glanced around and spotted Scully sitting at a little table in a corner of the darkened pub. It was hot, almost humid inside, very loud and it smelled like sweat and alcohol. Mulder extended his arms straight, palms together and started a sideways reverse Packman gobble to part the crowd. He made his way through looking straight ahead and saying _Excuse me_ loud and clear repeatedly. As he walked closer to the table where Scully was sitting, taking off his jacket, he noticed that Scully was giggling and talking to three men. As he got even closer, he saw that one of them had his hand over her crossed legs. There were about a dozen of empty bottles of beer and probably as many glasses that certainly had not been used to drink the beers.

 

      “Scully?” He asked, incredulous, standing at the end of the table.

      “Hey, Foxy!” She replied in laughter, looking up at him and missing her hand as she tried to support her chin with it. “ _You_ … kept me waiting,” she continued with a pouting face and an accusing finger vaguely pointing at him. “Sit down and have a drink with us. These nice gentlemen … are quite the funniest ones too.”

      “Scully, what are you doing? Come on, let’s go.” He held out his hand.

      “Why, no! I want to stay here and have fun.”

      “Come on, Scully.”

      “You heard the lady; she wants to stay here and have fun,” said the guy who had his hand on Scully’s lap and was the closest to Mulder.

 

Mulder stared at him, and then grabbed him by the arm, pulled him out of his seat and took his place next to Scully. When the nice gentleman tried to come back, Mulder moved the jacket that he had draped over his arm just a little higher and showed him his gun. The guy understood and quickly walked away with an unsteady pace.

 

      “Get the hell outta here,” Mulder said to the other two who didn’t wait to be asked a second time.

      “You. Are. Noooooo. Fun.” Scully said, reaching out her hand for a bottle. He stopped her. “Definitely no fun.”

      “Scully, what the hell are you doing?” He whispered as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

      “What?”

      “ _What??_ How many drinks have you had?”

      “A few.” She leaned her heavy head against his chest.

      “A few!?”

      “You goin’ to repeat everything I say?”

      Mulder opened his mouth and blanked.

      “You wanted to repeat that too, didn’t you?” She snorted a laugh.

      “Scully, what’s wrong? Why did you have so much to drink?”

      “I was tired o’ waitin’.”

      “It took me less than an hour,” he protested.

      “Not _that_ waiting … How’s … _Detective_ White? Oh no, no, no.” She covered his mouth with a hand. “I duwannanno.”

      “Okay, come on, let me get you out of here.” He started to pull her up.

      “Sit!” She pulled him back down. “And have a drink with me! ”

      “I think you’ve had a drink for the both of us.”

      “No I haven’t,” she protested as her finger began to point every bottle, counting them in a whisper.

      “Scully, come on, look at you.”

      She did; she tilted her head downward, and, not understanding his point, waved it away with her hand and said, “I can totally have a few more, and _I_ want _you_ … to have a few more too.” Her hand landed flat on his leg and slid along his inner thigh.

      “Wow wow wow,” he hissed, taking her wrist and stopping it from travelling any further. “Scully, you are so wasted. That’d be funny if I wasn’t so worried. I’ve got to get you back to the motel.”

      “What do you wanna do _me_ in the motel?” She asked as sensually as she could, considering the amount of alcohol she had ingested while she spun to face him, laying one hand on his chest and the other on the back of his neck.

      “Put you to bed.”

      “Oh! And then what?” She whispered almost in his mouth.

      “Probably bring you an aspirin or two.”

      “I don’t want an aspirin.” She got even closer to his lips.

      “What do you want?” He whispered, now swallowing hard.

 

She pressed herself tighter to him, jutted out her swelled chest against his, her fist closing over his shirt, and she covered his mouth with hers. They both closed their eyes when their lips touched. Her tongue explored his mouth and he indulged himself in her alcoholic taste for a moment. Then he took both of her wrists and brought them over to his chest, while breaking the kiss.

 

      “Scully,” he whispered. Her eyes remained closed and her face just inches away from his. She looked as if she was still kissing him, still enjoying herself. “Scully,” he tried again. “Don’t take it personally, okay? I want to kiss you, I really do. If you weren’t so drunk … you’d have my tongue all over you.”

      Her eyes fluttered open. “I would?”

      “Yes.”

      “Show me.”

      “No. Not here, not now, not in your … condition.”

      “What condition? Who gives a fuck about my _condition?”_

      “I do.”

      “Those nice gentlemen over there wouldn’t have minded licking me all over.”

      “I’m sure of it.”

      “And I wanted ’em to.”

      “You don’t know what you want.”

      “Yes, I do. I want you.”

 

Mulder gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on her wrists as her hand started to slide down. Why did she have to be so drunk? He had dreamed of her saying that to him. Pretty naughty dreams actually. And now that she did say the magic words, she was so drunk she could literally fall. Right here. _Bam!_ Asleep, forehead on the table. Or throw up nonstop for half an hour. Maybe, probably more.

 

      “You don’t know what you’re saying, Scully,” he said after the shock had passed.

      “Aye I doth; I wanteth thee,” she replied, her fingers trying to go underneath his shirt to touch his sweaty skin.

      “Scully,” he had to smile there, “stop,” he said softly.

      “Why? You tic’lish?” She tucked down her forehead against him and managed to slide a whole hand underneath his shirt.

      “No, Scully, I’m not ticklish,” he gently laughed. “I just want to take you out of here.”

      “Take you,” she repeated, dreamy, her eyes planted back onto his within the snap of a finger.

      “Out of here. I just want to take you _out of here_.”

      “And _Iiiiiiii_ just want —”

      “I know,” he cut her off. “Forget it, it’s not gonna happen.”

      “Why not?”

      “Scully …”

      “I can be pretty, pretty naughty,” she teased.

      He looked into her eyes and controlled himself, feeling her fingertips lingering over his chest. “Bold plan, Scully, real’ nice.”

      “I’ll show you.”

      “No, I —”

 

As she was still seated by his side, all twisted from facing him, she lifted her butt and quickly straddled him, knocking her back against the table, all the bottles and glasses crashing down onto the floor.

 

      “Oops,” she said with false concern before returning her attention to Mulder. The noise was barely noticed. “Who’s your _white_ Buffalo now?” She grinned.

      “I’m not sure what you mean. You’re more like my white whale, Miss Starbuck. But _you_ are, Scully.”

      “Yeah but you can’t really ride a whale …”

 

Mulder resisted her cuteness, let go of her wrists and held her waist instead while Scully hugged her arms around his neck, and he slid to the end of the bench with Scully on his lap and moved out from the corner table. As soon as he was up, Scully wrapped her legs around his waist.

 

      “Woo Mulder, you naughty boy; I can _feel_ you.”

      “Of course you can, Scully,” he said softly, unashamed about his struggling situation and trying to unlock her feet from around his back.

      “You _want_ me,” she breathed in his ear, biting his earlobe.

      “You have no idea,” he flirted, breathing in her ear too.

      “Let's do it,” she nipped at his neck.

      “I'm afraid you have more alcohol than blood in your body, and alcohol easily catches on fire and you know how I'm afraid of fire.”

      “Damn alcohol!”

      “Yeah, damn alcohol indeed. Now loosen your feet, please.”

 

He put her down gently and steadied her with a hand on her back, her arms still tightly hooked to him.

 

      “Can you stand?”

      _“Ob_ -viously,” she rolled her eyes.

      “Can I get you home now, Scully?”

      “Can you stay with me tonight?”

      He looked at her intensely. “Will you behave?”

      “I dunno,” she laughed and became all serious again, “Can mine own thee deprave? Or you can _punish!_ me if I misbehave.”

 

He smiled at her, then kissed her forehead and dragged her out of the bar.

 

      “I wouldst totally has’t hadst a few more drinks or a few more of thee, Mulder.”

      “Yeah, come on, Scully, keep thy li’l legs moving.”

 

***

 

By the time they arrived at the motel, Scully had fallen asleep. He gazed at her as he slowly turned off the ignition. Her head was laying against the window and her hands were obediently clasped between her legs.

Since he didn’t know where her key was, he took his own, opened the door and came back to the car. He wanted to check on her during the night, so they wouldn’t have been using two rooms anyway. He held her head as he opened the door slowly, unfastened her seatbelt and kneeled besides her. He gently whispered her name and told her they were there but she was sleeping deeply. So he did the only thing he could think of; he carried her outside of the car, one arm under the back of her knees and the other behind her back.

 

When he laid her on the bed and took her shoes off, she moaned his name. He stopped to look at her again and pushed away strands of her hair and tucked them behind her ear before planting a kiss on her forehead. To make her more comfortable, he unbuttoned her pants suit and covered her with a spare blanket.

 

When he was ready, dressed with a tee and sweatpants, he laid on the other side of the bed. Just to be sure, he put his hand next to her nose to reassure himself that she was still breathing and then he turned off the lights. _I want you._ The phrase haunted him for a while before he was able to sleep too.


	3. Nursing a hangover

Mulder woke up during the night, feeling her warmth against him. She was sleeping and had nestled into his side. Her hand was lying upon his stomach.

He put a protective hand on her shoulder and went back to sleep.

 

***

 

It was still night when Scully awoke, nauseous. She stood quickly and ran to the bathroom, instantly throwing up in the toilet.

Mulder was pulled out of sleep and lifted himself up on his elbows, listening.

 

      “Scully?” He called as silence had filled the room again.

      “I’m okay,” she replied after a moment.

      “Okay.”

 

From the sound of her voice, he wondered if she was still light-headed and under the influence of alcohol. It had sounded almost like a question, and her voice had seemed to tremble. Deciding she was taking too long, he stepped out of bed. Scully was kneeling in front of the toilet, her elbows on the toilet seat and her hands holding her head which looked heavier than ever. He kneeled behind her and laid his hand flat on her shoulder blade. She had not heard him coming in and she lost her balance when she turned around in surprise.

 

      He caught her arm. “I got you,” he said.

      “Jesus, Mulder!” She turned back toward the toilet.

      “That bad, huh?”

 

She didn’t answer. The fun part of drunkenness had gone and only foolishness and shame remained. She held her head again. And a terrible headache remained too.

 

      Mulder stood and pulled her up gently. “Come on, Scully, you need some fresh air.”

      “You’re a doctor now?” She asked, weakly smiling as he tenderly spun her toward him and hugged his arm around her shoulders to steady her against him.

      “Only when the real doctor has left the building.”

 

She let herself be led outside, not entirely confident in the power or willingness of her legs to carry her.

 

      “That’s an interesting look you have here, Mulder.”

      “I’m just giving life to the fashions of tomorrow,” he smiled, looking down at his sweat pants that quite didn’t match his jacket and dress shoes.

 

The night was clear and silent with a cold little breeze. The moon lighted the way for them. Pulled by her shoulder against his chest, Scully pushed her face up toward the sky, resting her head on his arm. Why was this place so special? Why had it had (and still did) such an effect on her? She sought to spot some planets. How small did she feel with the universe looking down upon them, these tiny little spots, little rocks that kept sending light throughout space and time, some of them dead millions of years ago. This thought brought her peace. This thought rationalized lots of things that were not so meaningful after all. She wondered what would be left of them when they’d be gone. Not much. One might as well enjoy the journey, act as one feels, and stop wondering about what-ifs. The most important things were those of the heart. Stars were dying every day and still shined through the nights for generations, exactly like a smile or even a sorrow, and as long as the moments were shared they were indelibly printed on one’s mind and heart for a lifetime.

Although it had only been three years since she’d met Mulder, they had shared so many things together that Scully had the feeling she had known him her whole life. They trusted each other blindly, they understood and knew each other better than anybody else. The fresh air was doing her good. Like Mulder had suggested. He had known what she needed better than she had herself.

 

      “I’m afraid to ask.” Scully turned to Mulder.

      “About last night?”

      “Yes.”

      “Hmm …” He smiled, searching for his words. “You spoke ancient English.”

      “What’s ancient English?”

      “Like Shakespeare’s?”

      “I did!?” She smiled, confused.

      “Where did that come from?”

      “High School … I guess?” They looked at each other and smiled. “How bad … or bold was I?” Her eyes widened in fear of the answer.

      “Ha! A few words come to mind. You were … leg-less, you were high, you were … overdosed on laughing syrup.”

      “Oh my God.”

      “Your father might have said _Under full sail_.”

      “I’m glad Dad didn’t have the honor. I didn’t lose consciousness, did I?”

      “Barely, but no. I’m not sure you could have answered the question _Where do you live?_ if I’d asked you though.”

      “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

      “And you were very Moulin Rouged …”

      She covered her cheeks and looked at him. “What is that?”

      “You were a damn amorous drunk person. And … maybe I shouldn’t say it … but I don’t think you were hitting only on me.”

      “Oh my God, I’m going to throw up again.”

 

She rushed to the side of the road and did. She stayed a moment bent down with her hands on her knees, lightly swaying sideways. Mulder laid his hand on her back and handed her a tissue. After she had cleaned her mouth, he gently hugged her and pulled her closer with his hand on her head.

 

      “It’s okay, Scully, I had your back. Actually, I thought you were endearing. And I’ve always loved to hear you laugh. I had a good share of it last night. You showed me … deep affection or deep neediness.” She pulled back a little to look in his eyes, silently inquiring him to be more specific. “There was only one quick taste of your vaporous flavor that I failed to refuse since you were already in my mouth, but I declined all your other generous offers, Scully. Against my will.”

      “Mulder … I didn’t mean to …”

      “I kinda hoped that you did.”

      She looked at him, thoughtful, and then came to the full realization of her insane night. “Oh my God, I can’t believe just how unprofessional I behaved.”

      “Forget it, it’s been a hell of a case. It’s affected both of us. I shouldn’t have said all the things I said.”

 

He set his head upon hers and looked forward. A house still had its lights on. He didn’t know what time it was but if he had to guess, he’d say between 12 and 3. After a few seconds, he realized that it was the Roberts’s house where they had visited Terri’s mother yesterday. That explained the sleeplessness and the lights on. How could a parent sleep when their child was out there somewhere? The curtains were opened and a feminine silhouette passed behind the window. It passed quickly and Mulder only had a brief glimpse, but something caught his eyes and he was unable to tell what it was. He spun Scully and him around a little and asked her to look over at the house. He chewed his lip as he tried to remember what it was that he saw.

 

      “I don’t see anything, Mulder.”

      “I know but … it was a woman, she seemed to have long hair. And … her head was downturned. I think her arms were crossed over her chest …”

      “Nothing odd. Terri’s mother was quite anxious.”

      “I know … I don’t know what it is. There was … something …”

 

The silhouette passed before the window again.

 

      “There!” Mulder almost yelled.

      “Oh my God,” Scully whispered.

 

The silhouette wasn’t Terri’s mother; it was Terri.

 

***

 

      Mulder let go of her and started running toward the motel, and then he hurried back to Scully and, with his hands on her arms, he asked: “Can I leave you here? You gonna be okay?”

      “Of course.” He flew away again. “Where are you going?” She yelled at him.

      “Get my pants and my gun! Keep your eyes on the house for me, Scully.”

 

Scully sat down on the sidewalk and obeyed; she focused her tired and still stoned eyes on the house about a hundred yards away. She held her face with her hands, her elbows on her knees.

 

Ten minutes later, Mulder jumped in his pants (and fell for not having taken his shoes off first). He grabbed his phone and dialed Detective White’s as he locked his room. Voicemail. He left a message.

 

Scully sat up straight as the door to the house opened.

 

Mulder ran back toward the house with his gun in his hand and his phone in the other.

 

Terri and Margi were exiting the house slowly, ending a conversation with who must have been Terri’s parents who stood in the doorway. Or at least that was what Scully thought. She couldn’t be a hundred percent sure; her eyes were still foggy. She looked in the direction where Mulder had left but he wasn’t back yet. She stood slowly, a little unsteady as her head still hurting, and covered her forehead with her hand. With the moon and the absence of clouds, it was very bright and she didn’t really know if she should walk (definitely not run) over to the house or just _keep your eyes on the house for me, Scully_. How soon would she be seen if she walked over there? How soon would they be out of sight if she didn’t?

She took a few steps backward and hid in the shadows of the trees, and then she began to move from tree to tree. That was probably what she should be doing. Right? Oh, she cursed herself for having drunk so much. She didn’t even know how much _so much_. But from the smell of her breath and the taste of vomit in the back of her throat, pretty much too much. She put her hand to her mouth and nose and blew some air. Oh, that was horrible.

 

The parents were closing the door now and the girls hastened toward the sidewalk across the street from Scully.

 

Scully had reached the closest tree, right across from the house, and she mumbled about Mulder not being here. Her mind tried to process her next move. Obviously there was no tree in the middle of the road. Obviously if she crossed the street hidden under a garbage can, it wouldn’t go unnoticed. Obviously she didn’t have a gun. And obviously she was in no condition for an early morning jog in her three, four (or maybe five, she really couldn’t tell at that point) inch heel shoes.

 

The turn signals from the car parked in front of the house blinked and a beep-beep sound followed.

 

And Mulder was still running somewhere (hopefully).

 

Her mind was striking out all the _obviously_ wrong answers and trying to add more options to her to-possibly-do list. There was but one left: stupidly throwing herself in front of the car.

The girls were sliding into the car, Mulder was still as easy to spot as an honest man in Congress and Scully heard the car roaring to life. It was now or never. Hit or miss. _To beest ’r not_ to be dumb as a fox. She breathed in her hand again and took a big puff of her vaporous aromas, almost fainted and then quickly staggered toward the car.

 

Terri’s hand and eyes were on the gear stick, ready to put the car in drive, when Margi saw Scully and yelled at her friend to not do anything.

 

Scully was carried along by her own momentum and, as she did three years ago when she started to work as Mulder’s partner, she took a leap of faith and jumped. It was more like a dive. Except there would be no pool to rescue and soften her fall. Or more like superwoman. But she had no super powers.

Terri urgently put the car in reverse and pressed her foot onto the gas pedal just in time: Scully squashed down flat on the road. Damn, she still was stoned out of her squash, she realized. The car stopped a few feet from her and Terri and Margi stared at one another in disbelief. For a brief moment, they feared they were in a remake of _The Night of the Living Dead_ when they stared at Scully who painfully rose from the ground, the mess of her hair hiding half her face. The two girls gaped when they recognized Scully. She stood, brushed her hair out of her face, put her hands on her waist, rocked her hips to the side and looked at them. Her eyes looked funky or funny or somewhat different, but, yeah, that was the FBI woman. As she moved one foot before the other, rocking her hips to the other side, a strand of hair fell in her face again. She got crossed-eyes and blew it away. And then (for some obscure reason the two girls didn’t get), Scully fainted and collapsed to the ground. Again.

 

Terri laughed and, as she was about to get the car moving, Mulder knocked on the window with his gun. She got scared, but looked at the rear window and backed up the car anyway.

When Mulder shot a bullet in the front and the rear wheels, Scully stood (again), fresh as a daisy. Almost. Barely. Not at all.

 

      “Scully!?”

      “Oh, hey, Mulder.” She wiped her shirt. “You kept me waiting.”

      “You two, get out of the car,” he ordered before he looked back toward Scully with a confusing and uncomfortable déjà-vu feeling.

 

As the girls’ car silenced, sirens were heard in the background.

 

***

 

      “Thanks for the ride back,” Mulder said.

      “Thanks for finding the girls,” White replied. She bent to the side and peeked past him through the doorway of the motel room. “Is she going to be okay?”

      Mulder looked behind him at Scully who had crossed her arms over her forehead. “Yeah … It’s been a long night. A long week I should say.”

 

Mulder locked the door after they said goodbye (hopefully forever) and sat by Scully on the edge of the bed.

 

      “I’m sorry I missed your stunt.”

      Scully raised her arms just enough to look at him from underneath them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. And she put the arms back over her eyes and forehead with a sigh.

      “Since you’re awake, don’t you wanna change for the night?”

      “No. Can’t do,” she said without moving.

      “Do you want me to change you for the night?” He spoke honestly without ulterior motives or hidden agenda.

      She lifted up her arms again and stared at him unrelentingly. “What do you mean?”

      “Some pajamas, a tee, something more comfortable, something you haven’t wore all day, something that you haven’t vomited in.”

      “You’re saying I smell bad?”

      “No! Well … maybe a little. But I really don’t care. I’m speaking for you,” he said genuinely.

      “And you want to undress me?” She slightly cocked her head.

      “Whatever it takes, Scully,” he smiled.

      She furrowed her brows. “I’m not sure, Mulder. We’re already apparently sharing a room (which is against the rules), I’d been drunk on a case —”

      “Still are a little.”

      “— (which is also against the rules), thank you very much. I’m not sure I should let you undress me, I’m not sure either of us could keep a chaste mind about it. I’m pretty sure I read something about that too in the against-the-FBI-rules chapters.”

      He pulled her gently by the arms. “Then lock yourself in the bathroom (or no, don’t lock yourself) and go change yourself, Agent Scully. And when you come back, if you still feel like not sleeping, we can talk about our kiss.”

      “What about it?” She asked with apprehension, now sitting next to him.

      “Go change first,” he smiled and gently pushed her out of the bed. “And brush your teeth!” He called out when she was in the bathroom. “Twice better than once.”

 

***

 

Scully was sitting at the head of the bed with pillows and cushions behind her back and her hands on her bent knees while Mulder was facing her, sitting cross legged at the foot of the bed.

 

      “What are you thinking about?” Scully asked after a pause.

      “I’m wondering … if I’ve ever been drunk out of my mind like you were tonight.” He kept looking at her, thinking about it. “I don’t think I have. What does it feel like?”

      “You’re asking _me?”_ She smiled.

      Point taken. “Was it a first?”

      “Yes. And definitely a last.” She closed her eyes and massaged her temples.

      He stayed silent and then he offered, “You know there are points on your feet to massage for fast and natural migraines relief?” She opened her eyes and smiled, unsure if he was serious. “It’s true, Scully.”

      She extended both feet straight toward him. “Please,” she smiled.

 

He took her feet in his hands and began massaging them while talking about the four acupressure and Chinese reflexology points that supposedly could help her feel better right away. His eyes were focused on her feet and hers were filled with affection for him.

 

      “How is it?” He tilted his face to hers after a moment.

      “It feels very good.”

      He nodded, continuing his gentle rubbing. “Scully, I don’t mean to sound presumptuous but did you get yourself drunk ’cause of me?”

      “What? No!”

      “Why did you do it?”

      “Mulder …”

      “I need to know, Scully.”

      “Why?”

      “Because I fear it’s because of me. I fear I made you uncomfortable.”

      “It’s not what you think Mulder …”

      “Tell me what to think,” he whispered. She swallowed and forced herself to maintain eye contact. “Please …”

      “I … liked … that you kissed me.” Her eyes went sideways uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes. “I liked … what we started, before Skinner interrupted. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I thought it was wrong and my guess is that I was trying to convince myself of that over a few drinks. I had just not anticipated how many I would need.”

      “Why do you say wrong?”

      “I don’t want to drink it through again to remember why,” she smiled and looked at him.

      “If you’re interested in my point of view, I thought it was right.”

      “Why wouldn’t I be interested in your point of view, Mulder? Of course, I am.”

      “ _At the moment_ , how did you feel?” He asked softly. Her heart was uncontrollably starting to pound louder and faster. “I’ll let you how I felt if you can’t.” He looked at his hands still on her feet. “How’s your head by the way?”

      “You were right. I barely feel anything anymore.”

 

He grinned at her then pulled her by the feet and slid her down on the mattress.

 

      “Mulder!”

      She was lying on her back and he slid his buttocks to sit by her waist and extended an arm over the other side of her hips, his hand on the mattress. “I can only imagine that you have doubts about us getting involved, Scully. And I have too. But I think it’s a good thing that we have doubts. It means we care. We fear. We feel.” Scully closed her eyes. They were dangerously warming with tears threatening to fall. “I _feel_ , Scully, that I’ve felt for you for a long time, that I’ve known you forever. I always wondered how to explain the unexplainable bond between us, the amazing partnership and trust and respect and deep appreciation and …” He caressed her cheek, her eyes slowly opening. “… and love,” he said into her eyes.

 

Her heart was beating so hard she was afraid it might explode. Her cheeks were so hot she feared he might burn himself. Her throat was so thick, she didn’t know how she could even begin to say anything. But in her eyes, he learned all he needed to know: that she felt exactly like him.

 

      He slowly stood and straddled her without touching her, and then he let himself fall onto his back on the other side of the bed, his hands crossed above his stomach. “And _Iiiiiii’m_ gonna go to sleep now ’cause I think I have the start of a headache.” And he closed his eyes.

      “What the f—?” She swallowed a laugh and rolled to her side toward him and gently slapped his chest. “Don’t you dare.”

 

Mulder kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady. She pushed his arms away, leaned over the one that was closer to her, and then laid both her hands and chest on his torso.

 

      “I know you’re not sleeping.”

      “Yeah I am.”

      “You never sleep.”

      “Now I do.”

      She grabbed his opposite hand and threw it over her waist and lifted up her hips so he could move his other one. “Get your damn hands on me,” she smiled. “Do you want me to be mad at you again?”

      “Uh oh, no!” He smiled and his hands captured her gently in his embrace.

      She looked intensely into his eyes. “I love you too, Mulder.” She couldn’t believe she even said that. “Oh, fuck.”

 

Mulder rubbed his hands on her lower back, pulling her closer above his chest and covered her mouth with his.


End file.
